


Hush

by Jillian_Bowes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Background Viktuuri - Freeform, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Rated T for language, leoji if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 01:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10264571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jillian_Bowes/pseuds/Jillian_Bowes
Summary: Otabek shuts Yuri up with a kiss.He no longer recommends this strategy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First YOI fic! Otayuri has consumed me, so I hope this isn't the only thing I end up writing for them.

“Augh, _shit!”_  Yuri’s frustrated hiss echoed throughout the rink.  He was hunched over on a bench, struggling with the laces on one of his skates. 

“Okay there, Yuri?” Yuuri Katsuki asked him from another bench a few feet away.

“Shut up,” he growled in response.  Yuri had been having a tough time practicing for Skate America, dealing with growing pains and adapting to his changing form.  It had only gotten worse since arriving in Chicago, and his mood clearly reflected that. 

Otabek sighed and knelt at Yuri’s feet, getting to work on untangling the laces for him.  “You did well today,” Otabek commented.

Yuri scoffed, though his expression had softened considerably.  “Are you kidding?  I can’t even do a damn combination spin without fucking it up anymore.” 

“There’s still time,” he assured, finally pulling the skate off Yuri’s foot. 

“Yeah, to get _worse.”_

Otabek took Yuri’s other skate off and joined him on the bench, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  “You?  Never.”   Yuri leaned into him and huffed, closing his eyes.  Otabek gently squeezed his arm and said, “JJ and Phichit are going to make a burger run, soon.”  He nodded in their direction, where they were taking Viktor’s overly-complicated order.

“Thank god, I’m starving,” Yuri groaned.

 _I can tell,_ Otabek almost retorted, but he thought better of it.  Instead he ran his hand up and down Yuri’s arm, hoping to keep him as calm as possible before JJ could come over and ruin it by simply existing too close to him.

Soon enough, Phichit bounded over to them, notepad and paper in hand, JJ coolly trailing behind him.  “Hey guys!” 

Yuri’s face screwed up at the disturbance, but he didn’t open his eyes.  “What?” he groaned.

“What do you want on your burger, tough guy?” asked JJ.  Yuri cracked an eye open to glare at him.

“Regular veggie burger for you, right Otabek?” Phichit intervened; he was already writing it down when Otabek grunted an affirmative. 

Yuri sat up and looked at the pair with intensity.  “Make mine a double.  I don’t care what’s on it, but _no onions.”_

“You don’t like onions?” JJ asked disbelievingly.  “So you’ve never had a real burger in your life?”

Yuri narrowed his eyes.  “If I see a single onion on my burger, I will light you on fire.”  Knowing Yuri, he probably meant it.

“Right, a double with no onions!” Phichit confirmed cheerily.  “Medium well, or…?”

“Don’t care,” Yuri grunted.  “No disgusting onions though.”

“Feisty,” JJ remarked.  Otabek subconsciously tightened his grip around Yuri in case he decided to lunge at them.  He didn’t much care for JJ, but Phichit would be unfortunate collateral damage.

“That’s everyone!”  Phichit clicked his pen and pocketed the notepad.  “Let’s go, I’m starved.”  They left the rink and Yuri huffed, leaning down to put his shoes on.

“Are you good?” Otabek asked him, one hand on Yuri’s back.

Yuri frowned and shrugged, leaning back again.  Otabek curled his fingers against his back, scratching lightly.  He felt some of Yuri’s tension leave him at once. 

“You’ll do great,” Otabek tried.

Yuri snorted disdainfully.  “At this rate, I’ll be lucky to even come close to beating Viktor and the piggy at the Grand Prix.”

“And me.”  Otabek smirked.

“I’ll obviously beat you,” Yuri joked, finally smiling a little.

Otabek took his hand from Yuri’s back and cuffed him on the arm.  “I’m taking the gold back to Kazakhstan, but you’ll surely keep me company on the podium.”

“And what if I don’t?”

Otabek pretended to think on it for a moment.  “I break up with you and date someone else.  Mila is single, isn’t she?”

Yuri’s face scrunched up and he kicked Otabek in the shin.  “Don’t even _joke_ about that!”  Yuri fake-gagged.  Or quite possibly real-gagged.

“So you’ll be joining me, then?”

Yuri crossed his arms and pouted.  “Shut up.” 

Otabek chuckled, pulling Yuri close to him to plant a kiss in his hair.  He heard Viktor cooing at them from the other bench and Yuri’s cheeks reddened.  “I’m going to kill him,” Yuri bristled. 

Viktor _could_ be a little annoying.  “One less skater to compete against.”

Yuri briefly considered this.  “Nah,” he said, changing his mind.  “He’d probably become some kind of frickin’ martyr.  And Pork Cutlet Bowl would quit.”

“No longer keen on killing people, hm?”

Yuri shrugged.  “I’ll still kill JJ.”

Otabek chuckled and stood, holding his hand out to Yuri.  “I don’t need you helping me off a bench,” he grumbled, but he took his hand anyway.

A table had been set up in the lobby, where some of the skaters were chatting and waiting for JJ and Phichit to come back with their food.  Viktor was wrapped around Katsuki, while Christophe talked with them animatedly.  Leo was seated there as well, but he was preoccupied with his phone—most likely video chatting with Guang-Hong on the other side of the world.

“You want to sit with them?” Otabek asked.  _Please say no._

“Not right now,” Yuri said.  _Good._   Otabek liked them enough, but prolonged exposure would surely give him a headache.  “Walk?”

Otabek nodded, and with that, they went exploring.  There wasn’t much to see, but he didn’t care, and he suspected Yuri didn’t either.  Yuri’s hand brushed his and Otabek responded automatically, lacing their fingers together.  Yuri did peek his head through a couple of doors, taking note of any empty room that they could “use later.”  Otabek had raised his eyebrows at that, but he knew better than to protest.

They looped back around to the lobby just as JJ and Phichit came in with the food.  Yuri perked up immediately; Otabek had never seen him so happy at the sight of JJ.  “Finally,” Yuri said, towing Otabek along to take their seats at the table. 

Otabek pulled a chair out for Yuri who, not one to be outdone, gave him a _look_ and yanked a chair out for Otabek in retaliation.  Otabek cracked a smile, shaking his head and taking a seat first.  Yuri plopped down with a victorious smirk, and Otabek found himself swallowing a sudden rush of affection. 

JJ and Phichit were sorting through the bags of burgers when Yuri shouted, “Hey, hurry it up already!”

“Be patient, Snowball!” JJ called back.  Yuri growled, but Otabek steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. 

JJ worked his way around the table, and at last Yuri’s burger was dropped in front of him with a _whap._ Phichit handed Otabek his burger, and he was about to unwrap it when he noticed Yuri narrowing his eyes suspiciously at his own. 

“What?” Otabek asked him.  “Is something wrong?”

“Yes.  I don’t know what.”

Otabek chuckled and removed his wrapper, taking a bite.  When Yuri still hadn’t moved, Otabek swallowed and nudged his shoulder.  “You’re supposed to unwrap it.”

“I know.”

“Do you want _me_ to unwrap it?”

Yuri glowered at him.  “No.”  Otabek shrugged and took another bite.  “I bet he poisoned it.  Or spit on it.”  He menacingly eyed JJ, who was on the other side of the table bragging away about something or other; probably his fiancée.

“He wouldn’t do that.  He likes you.”

“Gross.”  With one last scowl at the offending burger, Yuri peeled the wrapper off and— “Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me.”  Before Otabek could ask what was wrong, Yuri threw the burger onto the table and yelled, “Hey, asshole!  You gave me the wrong one!  There’s _onions_ on this!”  Oh, _damn._

“No, that’s the right one,” JJ said around a mouthful of fries.  “I went ahead and had them put onions on it.”  Yuri’s face was borscht-red, and Otabek could swear he was steaming.  “You know, to get the _full experience,”_ JJ added, flourishing a ketchup-drenched fry.

“Shut up!” Yuri barked.  Otabek put a hand on Yuri’s lower back where no one could see, but it didn’t soothe him in the slightest.  He was vaguely aware that Phichit had begun filming the incident, but Yuri either hadn’t yet noticed or he was too angry to care.  “You ruined my food, shithead!”

“Can’t you just take the onions off, Yurio?” Yuuri Katsuki asked. 

“Are you _serious!?”_ Yuri raged.  “Onions reek!  I could practically smell them the second Jackass Leroy walked in!  The fucking thing is tainted.”

“Listen man,” JJ tried, but he was promptly cut off.

“No, shut up!”  Yuri turned to Otabek as if to say, _Are you seeing this shit?_ Yes, he was most certainly seeing it.  “I swear to God, if he even looks in this direction I am going to scream.”

“You are already screaming,” Otabek pointed out.

“I’m _not--_!” Yuri stopped, then lowered his volume.  “--screaming.”

Otabek quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. 

“I can run back and get you a new one,” Phichit offered kindly.  “I don’t mind.” 

“Oh, great,” Yuri scoffed.  “Maybe then I’ll get to eat by next season.”

“You don’t have to do that, Phichit,” Katsuki said.  “Maybe stop filming though.”

Phichit sheepishly lowered the phone, but he didn’t stop the video. 

“What’s the big deal here, anyway?”  JJ chimed in.  “Onions are awesome.  You’ve been deprived, man.  I’m doing you a favor!”

Oh no. 

“The big deal is I _can’t fucking eat this!”_ Yuri shouted.  This had gone on too long; Otabek was starting to get a headache.  “It’s ruined, and I’m still fucking hungry!”

Even Otabek was irritated with JJ on Yuri’s behalf.  Why JJ could not have simply followed Yuri’s one instruction was beyond his comprehension…

He took a deep breath.  Blaming him was pointless now; the deed was done.  Yuri had no food, and there was still a long day of practice ahead.  Truthfully, Otabek felt bad for him, but his yelling would soon bust somebody’s eardrum.  Some strangers were even starting to stare, making Otabek’s insides squirm uncomfortably.

Yuri was still ranting.  “I swear on everything--”

“Yuri,” Otabek warned, but Yuri ignored him.

“—if by some perverted miracle you get a place on the podium—“

 _“Yuri,”_ he tried again.

“—I will take your medal and shove it _so_ —“

Otabek had heard enough.  He took Yuri by the sides of his face, stopping him abruptly in his tirade; he tugged Yuri close and brought his lips to his own in a bruising kiss.  Otabek basked in the silence for a moment before releasing him, and there was a tiny _smack_ as they pulled apart.

Yuri blinked, and blinked again.  His face was reddening by the second.  Only once the initial shock had worn off did Otabek realize his mistake; Yuri was back to yelling, more impassioned than ever.

“Was that supposed to fucking help me?” he shouted.  “There are still onions on this burger!” 

Otabek pursed his lips and exhaled, officially out of ideas.  “Sorry,” he muttered, a little embarrassed.  He’d seen it work on television…

With an exasperated sigh, Yuri stood from the table and thrust his hands in his pockets, retreating from the lobby.  “Aw, come on, Yurio!” Phichit called after him, but Yuri only gave him the finger in response; that was apparently Phichit’s cue to stop taping.

“Did you _have_ to give him onions?” Yuuri asked.

JJ shrugged.  “It’s not like I knew he was gonna freak.”

Yuuri looked at him pointedly.  “Really?  You _really_ didn’t know?”

Otabek rolled his eyes and excused himself and followed after Yuri.  He found him sprawled across a bench in the empty locker room, scrolling through his phone with a scowl on his face. 

“Yuri?” Otabek addressed, approaching him.  Yuri didn’t say anything, but he drew his knees up to give Otabek room so sit on the end of the bench.  “I’m sorry.”

Yuri put his phone down and looked at him for a moment before turning his gaze to the side.  “Not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he admitted. 

Yuri smirked.  “No, probably not.”  A silence passed, then Yuri said, “I’m going to starve.”

Otabek snorted and patted Yuri’s knee.  “Come here.”  Yuri sat up without protest and let Otabek wrap an arm around him.  Yuri’s stomach growled, and they both frowned.  “You know, veggie burgers aren’t that bad.” 

“I don’t believe you,” he huffed.

“You won’t know until you try.”  Yuri didn’t respond.  “And JJ has plenty of fries.  I was thinking you could distract him while I steal them.”

“All right,” he surrendered after a long pause.  “I can get him back for being such a cock.  …And I’ll try your weird burger.”  Otabek grinned and stood up, offering his hand.  Yuri smiled wryly.  “I don’t need you helping me off a bench,” he said, just as he had earlier.

He took his hand anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta mischiefmanager, without whom I would probably never publish anything. :') Check out my YOI tumblr: plishitsky.tumblr.com


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